A Grey Day
by all times pass
Summary: Just a day in the Life of my OC Xander Grey, featured in the story "Two" by alyssremers7. Takes place prior to his finding Camp Half-Blood. If you like it, check out her story (it's still in the early stages), if not, check it out anyways.
1. Wake Up Call

**AN: This is basically a look at the life of Xander Grey before he found his way to Camp Half-Blood in the story ****_Two_**** by alyssremers7. As he is my character and she has told me on a few occasions that she can't write his POV well without me, I figured that anyone interested would like to know what things were like for him. On to the story.**

**Disclaimer: Obviously, I'm not Rick Riordan. And this is a fan fiction. I own Xander, Lance, and Leah. Not this wonderfully crafted universe that I would love to be a part of.**

_Xander's POV_

I woke up early today, just like always, in the vain hopes of not seeing any vulgarities scrawled across the bed above me in the barracks of the 4th cohort. As expected, there they were, the usual insults (Death Breath, Scrawny [I don't know why they think I find that insulting], Freak, etc.) but there were a few... unusual ones. Zombie-loving assfucker, Knife Ear, and Schtako guzzler. The first one makes no sense at all for two reasons: the only "zombies" I've ever encountered were some odd demons that I dusted pretty easily, and I'm a virgin. I mean, I'm twelve. I roll my eyes, shaking my head and thinking, _I will never understand people._ The second one I just shrug off, kind of. _I know my ears are a little pointy, but is it really that noticeable? _The third one. I don't know what that means. I continue to stare at it trying to figure it out, just laying in my bed, focused until...

"Morning, Black," greeted Leah.

I turn to look at Leah to see her smiling despite having obviously just woken up. Her long red hair is more than a little messy, and her green eyes are still a little glassed over. She's wearing her usual pajamas; a blue t-shirt and shorts that go about to her knees. "It's Grey, Leah, not Black," I respond, rolling my eyes. I turn my attention back to the new list of insults.

"Yeah, but on days like this, Black suits you so much better. You look like you're thinking about killing someone, and it isn't even 7:30 yet. Get some interesting ones, today?" She comes over to inspect them with me, moving me over to lay down beside me. She skips over the usual ones, muttering something about the lack of creativity of some people, and finally reaches the same three that stopped me. "What in the name of Pluto?" she whispers. "You're twelve!"

At the mention of my dad, I look over to her. "Hey, let's not bring my dad into this. People hate me enough already."

"I know, but you're twelve!" she responds, muttering crossly. "And how is Knife Ear even an insult?"

"It's a derogatory term used by people who are racist against elves in video games and books. It is used because of the comparatively odd shape of the ears relative to humans, and is supposed to make the difference more apparent and shame the elves," states a newly awakened Lance. As opposed to Leah, his red hair is cut short and his green eyes are clear whenever he wakes up. I really don't know how he does it. Lance, now frowning, continues his monologue with, "and I hope you two are happy because you just made me use up my on intelligent thing for the day. I hope you two have your kool-aid ready."

Ah, yes. Our friendly drinking game. Whenever Lance does something stupid that Leah and I observe, see, hear, or smell, we have to drink a can of kool-aid. The one who loses is the one who gets so sugar high that they collapse. We usually end up going through about five gallons of it a day, but he doesn't usually start doing stupid stuff until after noon, when he has finally used up his intelligent act for the day. This is going to be a long day.

"Well, little brother, I don't suppose you can strain yourself to tell us what a schtako guzzler might be?" asked Leah.

"FIVE MINUTES, LEAH! THAT DOESN'T MEAN ANYTHING!" Lance shouts. "And no, I can't. I've never heard of schtako."

I guess I should explain that. Lance and Leah are twins, Leah having been born, obviously, five minutes before Lance. She loves to lord it over him as if she won a race or something. I guess that might just be the competitive nature of Mars in their veins.

Anyways, the rest of the barracks, woken up by Lance's shouting, start getting ready for the day. Shooting a few dirty glances our way and laughing is Caius and his group, basically the bullies of this cohort. The first night I was known to be a child of Pluto, they came over to my bunk while I slept. I knew they were there, and was worried they were going to attack me, but instead they just started the nightly routine of leaving me insults on the bunk above me. After a few nights, I figured they weren't going to attack me, so I just let them continue. It was a better option than confronting them, and it wasn't worth bringing to Reyna, or even Mark, the leader of our cohort. It doesn't help that people try to avoid children of Pluto like the plague, or just openly despise them. We're thought of as bad luck, not that there are many of us around anyway. The only other ones that I know of are Nico di'Angelo, who isn't around all that much, and I've heard of a girl named Hazel as well, but I haven't any contact with her at all.

"Come on, you two. We might have a long day ahead of us, no point in putting it off any longer. Reyna wants to see us at 1, and we have archery and combat training between now and then." We grab our clothes to go to the showers, Lance and Leah racing out the door. As I'm walking out, I look around to see if I'm forgetting anything. Caius shoots me a look that screams trouble before turning back to his little crew, smirking. _Yeah, this is going to be a long day._


	2. Bath Time

Walking out of the barracks, I saw Lance and Leah already about two blocks ahead of me in the streets of New Rome. The "mature" twins I know them to be, one undoubtedly challenged the other to a race, which was immediately accepted. Watching the sun slowly begin to crest the hill that formed the eastern boundary of Camp Jupiter, i thought, _I don't understand their rush. If they would just low down for once, they might see why I actually hate sleeping in the barracks. Gods, I wish there were more trees in this camp. _I stayed locked in thought like this for the rest of my trek to the showers. I probably would've continued walking right past them if Lance hadn't grabbed me and roughly pulled me into the locker room.

Ok, mild confession time: there aren't any showers, just communal baths, quite possibly my least favorite thing about this whole camp. It's so unsanitary, especially for the people who take later baths. I'd say you might as well bathe in the river, but at least in the river your dirt and grime get carried away. In the baths, it just stays there until it's drained. Really, it's the only reason that I wake up as early as I do anymore (I know I'm never going to not see insults when I wake up), clean bath water and an empty locker room. Despite the reputation for discipline Rome has, if there is one thing a few of my scouting missions have taught me, it's that a locker room of teenage males with fewer brain cells than muscles is the same around the world, or at least the San Francisco Bay Area. Settling for the more modest approach, I strip down to my underwear, grab a towel, and walk out to the bath to see Lance sitting in the bath, presumably waiting for me so we can get each other's backs. I also see that he opted for the less modest approach, his boxers laying atop his towel. Inwardly, I sigh. Outwardly, I just drop my towel next to his, and get in the water, resolving to be out first.

As I step in, the warm water slowly relaxes me, easing out the stiffness from my bad night of sleep. By the time the water is up to my neck, my eyes are closed in the simple bliss of relaxation.

**_SPLASH!_**

_Well, so much for relaxation, _I thought, my head now dripping with water from Lance's antics. I hadn't even noticed him climb out of the bath, let alone get the running start for his cannonball. As Lance surfaced, I fixed him with the most menacing glare a mostly naked, dripping wet twelve-year-old can give to someone substantially bigger and stronger. Suffice it to say, Lance could barely contain his laughter.

"Dude, lighten up, I'm just having some fun," Lance said, still trying not to laugh as I was still glaring, "You're acting like a real killjoy."

"Lance, this is a bath, not a pool. As such, it is not our playground just because we're the only ones in it. Now, will you please hand me that bottle of shampoo?" I asked, pointing past him to the ever present hygiene product in question.

"Yeah, sure," he responded, quickly swimming over to the other side of the large bath and back. He quickly squirted some into his hand before handing me the bottle. Repeating Lance's process, I recapped the bottle with my chin and set it on the edge of the bath. As I began to lather up, Lance smirked at me and said, "Don't forget to get behind your knife ears."

_Ok, quick stock. The pros and cons of punching Lance: pros include possibly hurting him and thus shutting him up. Cons include definitely hurting myself, and probable retaliation from Lance. Fuck it. _My left arm lashes out quickly, connecting solidly with Lance's right. _Ow, that hurt. I really hate being right all the time. _Rubbing my knuckles, I look over to see Lance looking at me as if to say, "Really?"

"Really?-"

_Hey, right again._

"- Man, Xander, you really need to hit the gym if you hurt yourself more than me when you punch. I would think that all that time you spend twirling your pole around would build **some **muscle." As if to further stress his point, he punched me in the arm, to which my only thought was, _And I'm right again. I need to pay attention to my pros and cons lists if I'm going to take the time to make them. _"I mean, the thing is six feet long and pure Stygian Iron. I'm honestly amazed you can even pick the thing up."

"Yeah, yeah. Be quiet and get my back for me, will you?" I say, turning my back to him. "And I will have you know that I have plenty of muscle from my practice with my **staff**, and could probably go through all of my drills with it for three hours straight."

"What drills?" Lance asked, scrubbing my back. _Dear Gods, I could hear the confused look on his face. This boy is too stupid to function, and yet here he is. _Raising my eyes to the sky, I think, _Ok, I already knew you were up there. I don't need you performing miracles to prove it._

Turning around and signaling for Lance to do the same, I say, "My drills, Lance. That thing I usually do end up doing at least three hours a day. What you called 'twirling my pole' and, knowing you, have probably also referred to it as pole dancing when people ask what I'm doing."

"Hey!" he exclaims, indignantly, "I only do that when Leah asks, and only when no one else is around. And trust me, if you could see yourself, you would probably call it dancing, too. It just happens to be pole dancing because it's with a pole."

"Do I even want to know how my drills qualify as dancing in your eyes?"

"Because, Xander, anytime you aren't fighting, you seem scrawny and awkward, but when you are, even if it's just against a bunch of dummies, you seem lithe and graceful. You have no wasted motion, and every action flows smoothly from one into the other. Plus, you have all these flips and rolls and bends and twists, put a girl in your hands and she would be all over you by the end of the night. You know, if you could get past the awkwardness of being alone and dancing with a girl."

By his second to last sentence, I was just sitting there in the bath, frozen, slack-jawed with surprise, and blushing from his description of my practices. His last sentence broke me out of my daze, and I paused just long enough to think, _What part of I don't need you performing miracles didn't you get? _That thought completed, I playfully smacked Lance on the back of his head.

"That was for the 'girl' comment. I would have no troubles getting past my alleged awkwardness, the trouble is that there is probably no girl in New Rome who would want to dance with me. Everybody hates Pluto's children, remember?"

"Not ev-"

"Are you two ladies done getting your manicures, or am I gonna have to come in there and drag you two to sword practice naked?" Leah yelled.

At this, Lance and I are both scrambling out of the bath, not particularly desiring to be dragged through New Rome naked. We quickly dry ourselves off and run into the locker room, shooing Leah out so that we can get dressed. We exit the locker room within the minute, and head off to the fighting pit, Lance challenging Leah to yet another race, myself opting to trail behind and enjoy the slight breeze of the early morning and think.

_This day, it just feels so weird. Lance said two smart things within the span of an hour, and has yet to break anything. And I almost forgot about Caius. What was with him and his gang today? I know they usually look like they're up to something, but that look he gave me before I left the barracks, it's like he knows something. _I am pulled out of my reverie by twin cries of, "Hurry up, Xander! If you're late, you'll be partnered with the instructor again." _Shit, that's right. The instructor, also praetor of New Rome, Reyna Arellano-Ramirez. She is one scary lady, and brutal with a sword. I would go so far as to call her pretty if I wasn't afraid she would snap me in half for making a comment that had nothing to do with swordplay. _

Putting on a burst of speed, I sprint past both Lance and Leah, heading towards the fighting pit. I keep this up most of the way there, and when the entrance is in sight, I look back to taunt them, but whatever I was about to say gets caught in my throat after colliding with someone, both of us falling to the ground. I turn to apologize to whoever it was and am met with the frightening sight of an angry Reyna.

"I-I-I-I'm so-so sorry, Lady Reyna. I didn't mean to run into you, I-I-I was just trying to-" I attempt to stammer out.

"Save it, Grey. Get into the pit, grab a weapon, and get ready to practice. You get to spar with me again, and after, you can have the added pleasure of polishing the weapons, and doing one hundred push ups and sit ups," she said angrily, as she picks herself up off the ground.

"Y-y-yes ma'am. Of course." I hurriedly get up and half walk, half run into the fighting pit.

"Oh, and Grey?" Reyna calls after me.

I turn back to her, just waiting for her to finish.

"No armor today. Just you and your staff versus me and my sword."

_Shit._

_**A/N: I did not intend for so much of this chapter to be a discussion between two guys in an overgrown bathtub, and actually was hoping to get into the actual sparring between Xander and Reyna, not just that little whatever you would call that at the end there. In all honesty, none of this stuff is planned, I just sit down and start writing. Anyways, if you've read this far, could you please just go that little extra mile and review? I would like to know the thoughts of anyone reading this on what's good, what's bad, and what I can do to fix the bad. Please and thank you.**  
_

_**-All Times Pass**_


	3. Sparring with Reyna

**A/N: I know, I know. Next to nobody reads this, and those who do have probably realized that I do not update often or regularly. That being said, I would like to apologize for the long amount of time it took to put this out. Anyways, to those of you who actually read these things, please review. Tell me if you liked it, hated it, how your day was, what you would like me to do differently, if you think I should get rid of this or not, etc. Anyways, good day to you all, and for any Doctor Who fan who might have somehow stumble across this, Allons-y!**

_Shit. _As I walk into the fighting arena, that is the only thing going through my mind, at least one thousand times by now. _Reyna, my praetor, my literal superior in every conceivable aspect of importance right now, just challenged me to unarmored single combat. This is going to hurt. _Fishing around in my pocket, I pull out my Stygian Iron coin and flip it. Luckily, it lands on the staff side and not the bow side. And just as suddenly as I caught the coin, it was replaced by a cold, six foot long piece of Stygian Iron. _Well, at least I have a chance at not getting hit too much. Everything seems so much easier with Umbra in my hands._

During my little mental freak out, Reyna must have grabbed her sword, because I suddenly hear metal scraping on metal and leather, the unmistakable sound of a sword leaving its scabbard. I'm not sure if it's the sound of the sword being drawn or the piercing gaze I know that Reyna has affixed on the back of my head, but all the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention and I get the overwhelming urge to cower in fear. _I am a child of Lord Pluto. I'm supposed to have this effect on people, and yet she manages to make me nearly wet myself just with her presence. _"L-Lady Reyna? Are you sure we can't wear any armor?" _Dammit, why can't I talk to her without tripping over my tongue?_

"Quite sure. You aren't afraid, are you? What's the worst that could happen?" Reyna replies looking at me with very cold and very angry brown eyes. _Is it possible for eyes to look hot and cold at the same time?_

"Well, on my end, I could end up in the infirmary for a week with a few broken bones. Again. I could very realistically die. You... could - I don't know, maybe you'd get some slight bruising on your hands from thrashing me and trying to break my staff?"

I misspoke. Big-time. "The Legion is no place for those who fear death, Alexander Grey. Especially when you are the son of the Lord of the Underworld himself." Reyna readies herself to fight, getting into her stance and holding her gladius with both hands.

"I don't fear death, I just don't want to experi- Vulcan's sweat socks!" My response was cut short as Reyna charged me, wasting no time or pretense on this being mildly easy for me. Ducking under her charging slash, I am now in a very vulnerable back bend, my staff in both hands. As I continue watching her follow through on her slash, I see a lock of my hair falling. _Holy Pluto, that would've made for an unwanted family reunion._

Reyna quickly recovers and turns around to stab down at me. I, being the suicidally quick thinker that I am, quickly curl up and roll back into her, keeping my arms out to catch her sword arm. _Fuck, why did I do that? I left my weapon on the ground, and now she's basically got all kinds of free body shots on me. _Luckily, while my mind was freaking out, my body was acting. I flipped Reyna over me and disarmed her in one move, backing away with her sword in hand. Again, Reyna quickly recovers and, noting the situation, grabs Umbra off the ground. _Well, this should be interesting. I've never seen Reyna use a staff before. Maybe she won't be too good with one._

Just as I finish that thought, she starts going through some basic staff work, apparently getting a feel for its weight._ Fuck, that's right. She's a daughter of Bellona, a war goddess. Her being bad with any weapon would be like me being afraid of the dark. Lord Mars, if my friendship with Lance and Leah means anything to you, please help me._ Silence. Nothing happens. Not even a slight tingle to tell me that he even acknowledged my plea. _Well. Fuck._

I, now sufficiently shaking in my boots both figuratively and literally, hold up Reyna's gladius in a defensive position. Reyna simply smirks and charges, holding Umbra like a spear, but something seems off about the situation. _Is that a-_

Before I have time to finish my thought, Reyna has pinned me to the ground with my own weapon protruding from my right shoulder. This would be a more surprising and impressive feat if there hadn't been a two foot long blade piercing flesh, bone, and dirt. At this point most people would be screaming in pain or going into shock. I simply looked at my shoulder, back up at Reyna (who was leaning over me, making sure I couldn't pull Umbra out of my shoulder, and smirking), and shouted, "What in the name of Jupiter did you do that for? And where the fuck did that blade come from? Gods, do you know how much this kind of thing hurts? I swear by all the Gods that you are a sadistic woman who uses me for your sick, sick kicks!"

I'm going to take this moment to pause because I guess I should explain a little: when I was born, the Fates and Juno tried to intervene. Something about me growing up to destroy the world. Pluto was able to stop them from ending my life, promising that what they saw could be prevented with training, discipline, and his blessing. His "blessing" is as good as it is bad, though. Here are the good things: shadow travel, shadow manipulation, geokinesis, summoning whatever plants are in Persephone's garden (mostly medicinal or poisonous plants), control over life forces, and just being really fucking hard to kill. I can and have taken a beating that would put most heavyweight boxing champions in a coma, and managed to walk away when they finally tired themselves out. Granted, I had about eighty broken bones, sections of skin and muscle torn from blunt trauma, and a concussion that made me wish I was hungover just so I would have some other head problem to tell my mother about (I had a concussion, don't try to understand the thought process), but I managed to walk away. Here are the downsides: I feel all the pain that would normally happen and then some, my demigod stink/monster attraction factor is about ten times the usual amount of a child of Pluto, if I take enough pain to kill someone, I get to watch the death of any random human on earth as it is happening, if I get too angry I enter a rage mode that is determined to kill anything within 100 yards of me, and severe energy drain from every above listed ability. To get a picture of how drained I'm talking, think about how tired an in shape, untrained American would be after running a marathon and you have how tired I would be after using two of my powers in quick succession. To imagine what would happen if I used all my powers, imagine that same American running a marathon while carrying/dragging a sumo behind him. Because of this, I don't really use my powers if I can help it, but I practice with them, try to make it so I can use them more, but I'm so far only good with shadow travel. It's annoying and backwards because that usually drains his children so much more than any other power we could have. But I digress, this has probably bored you to tears if you haven't been occupied with why I suck at fighting with all those useful abilities. Oh well, back to the sparring match, if you can call it that.

Reyna just looked down at me, a rather creepy smile on her face, and said, "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not." Tugging on Umbra, she continues, "Just shake it off, Grey, this match isn't over until you can make me bleed. On the long list of things you haven't managed to do in the three months I've been personally handling your combat training, that is at the very top." After about five (painful) tugs on Umbra, she finally has it out of my shoulder and drops it on my chest (to those who don't know, a six foot iron pole that is an inch-and-a-half in diameter isn't exactly light, i.e. it hurt), then turns around and picks up her sword which I was unaware I had dropped though am not surprised, all things considered. She lays her sword by my left hand, then picks up Umba off of my chest, walking a about ten yards away.

She turns back to me with a look that just screams "I know you just got stabbed through your arm. You gonna cry about it, or actually do something worthwhile?" _Thank the gods I have spent time working both arms alone. Granted, I never thought I would need it in anything other than a life or death situation. Granted, outside of a mission, sparring with Reyna is probably as close as I'm going to get. _After a few more moments of our silent stare down, I concede defeat, stand, and get ready for a major ass-kicking. Again. "Before this begins again, might I ask what you will do with all of your aggression should I ever wind up dead or MIA?"

"That-" Reyna begins charging me, staff behind her back in her left hand, "-is the least of your worries right now." _Is she left handed? Or maybe ambidextrous? Fuck! _In my little space-out moment, I had forgotten why she was charging me and barely had the time to bring up her sword to block her spinning strike. "Focus, Grey. Any slower and I would have broken three of your ribs. As it stands, be happy I'm only going half-speed." _Gods, help me. I can't let myself get distracted by these little nuances. It doesn't matter-_

_WHACK! _Suddenly, I'm on the ground, my head pounding. I just close my eyes and wait. It isn't a very long wait.

"Focus, Grey! Thinking is for anywhere but the battlefield when you aren't thinking about the battle!" _Ah, yes. More wisdom from Reyna, dealt with the combination of pain and shouting._ _If this situation is anything like all of the other times this has happened, she is standing one foot to my right and leaning on her weapon. _Hoping I'm right, I spin on my back, kicking towards where her knees should be. I make contact, and continue my spin, using the momentum to flip onto my hands and feet, somehow finding Reyna's sword in the process. My eyes open now, I find Reyna and do a quick somersault towards her. I right myself beside her, my left hand on her throat and her sword poised to stab at her head.

"Focus, Ramirez. You should have been up by now." In response, she glares, grabs my shirt and sword hand, flips me, and I suddenly find myself in a normal situation: Reyna straddling me, lightly panting, and pointing a sword at my chest. "You know, if you end up in this position any more often, and people might begin assuming that you like me more than just as your personal training dummy." Oddly, I never saw the next event coming. She stabs through my left shoulder, into the ground again. "Gods, dammit Reyna! One of these days you **will** get to know how this feels!" I shout through immense pain.

Reyna stands up, laughing lightly. "Suck it up, Grey. The only way I will ever know how this-" she points at her sword in my shoulder "-feels is if you grow the balls to not hold back in these sparring matches. I've seen you in action in our war games, and in live combat. You're better than this. I know that you at least have more skill with that staff of yours. I've had your private practices monitored, and they all report great things. Use them, or stop making idle threats." At this, she turns and walks away, and I am suddenly aware of the emptiness of the sparring pit, and my stomach.

"Reyna, aren't you going to pull this sword out of my arm and hurt me some more?" She only responds with silence. _Well, fuck. This is probably going to hurt a lot. _I raise my right arm, still in a lot of pain from her first stab, and with it, a large rock casting a shadow over me. _I really hope I'm wrong about this hurting. _I focus, attempting to shadow travel into Reyna's shadow, and then it happens. Despite the short distance, it still feels like forever in the chilling, whispering darkness. Soon, though, it ends, and I am standing behind Reyna, her sword still in my arm.

"Aaaaggghhhh! Fuck, that hurts!" And like the sadist she is, Reyna turns around, and swiftly pulls her sword out of my arm. "That doesn't help!" I shout, now gripping the gaping hole in my shoulder.

"Either you still wish to spar, or you wanted me to have my sword back, or at least have it out of your arm. I am more inclined to believe option one because you could have gone to the infirmary otherwise." She is still holding her sword, ready to strike or sheathe her sword depending on my answer.

"Well, I can still fight, and the first rule that you ever told me was that I fight until I can't whenever we spar. Besides, you said this match isn't over until I can make you bleed. You've only got my blood on you, like usual." My arms are now at my sides, ready for anything. And then I'm on the ground, wondering why I'm eating dirt when I don't feel any new pain. I try to get up, or at least move my head so I don't have to inhale dirt with every difficult breath, and I can't even do that.

"Come on, Grey, get up," Reyna says, clearly annoyed with me.

I try to respond, but my words come out rather garbled due to my make out session with the dirt.

Reyna then bends over and picks my head up by my hair, asking "What was that?"

I try to form a coherent response, but as any guy will tell you, it is admittedly difficult to form said responses when an admittedly pretty girl is a very short distance from your face and you have a really good view down their shirt at their, erm, ample assets. _Why can't I ever just look her in the eyes? So much of my current problem stems from not meeting her gaze. _After about twenty-five seconds of her waiting for me to respond, I finally manage to remember what I was saying. "I said, 'I'm trying, but I can't move anything.' And I still can't. I don't suppose you could get someone to find my friends or carry me to the infirmary?" I ask rather sheepishly, hoping that she won't drag me there herself, because Gods know that she would use it as a chance to berate me for my lack of endurance and getting her hopes up in a challenge I couldn't deliver.

"..." She just looks at me in silence for a few more seconds, then smiles one of her creepy, scary smiles. I really hope that means she's just going to have Aurum or Argentum drag me there and go eat.

No such luck.

She slings me, on my stomach, over her right shoulder in a fireman's carry, my arms dangling to about her waist, and my knees about even with her stomach. _Why does she have me like this? She didn't even do it right, my waist is supposed to be on her shoulder, not my stomach._

She starts walking, a very uncharacteristically bouncy walk, causing my arms to sway with each step, my hands lightly brushing her... I feel the heat rushing to my face (among other places). _Oh dear._ _I am so dead. _"You know, Xander," she begins - _Something is wrong here. She used my first name, and was that... playfulness in her voice - _"if you keep **that** up, people might begin assuming you like me more than as just your Praetor." _Yep, definitely playfulness. Gods, kill me now. This is going to be a long walk._

**I really wonder if anyone will tell me how their day was. I feel like those are the only reviews I will get.**


	4. An Infirmary Visit

**Well, I finally got back around to writing for this story. Let's see if I can still do this then.**

**Disclaimer: Not Rick Riordan, blah, blah, blah. If you know the characters, I don't own them. Story!**

"Please put me down."

"No."

"Please put me down."

"No."

"Please put me down."

"No."

"Reyna, please put me down," I all but beg from my position for the umpteenth time.

"Maybe. On two conditions," she says, an unidentifiable element in her voice.

Throwing caution to the wind, I say, "Okay, whatever you want, just please put me down." As we get nearer to the residential district, I hear people beginning their days and going about their business. "Please, Reyna, before anyone sees us," I plead, all pretense of pride gone.

She sets me on my feet, saying "Okay," leaving me wobbling a little as I struggle to keep my balance, "but here are those conditions. One; you will meet me back at the arena after you are fixed up and can stand without wobbling, and two; you don't hold back when you get there. And in the event you feel like 'forgetting' this, that is an order. The Legion has no use for a soldier who won't fight their hardest."

Despite wanting nothing more than to refuse, mostly because I really hate fighting Reyna, I agree with a nod of my head and watch as Reyna walks back to the arena. It's then that I remember why she was carrying me in the first place. _I really didn't think this through. Well, let's see if I can walk._ I take a shaky step forward and almost immediately faceplant, which has the added effect of jarring my still mildly bleeding and very hole-filled (That's an oxymoron if ever I thought one) shoulders. "Ow," I say through the dirt in my mouth. "Okay, Grey, get up and walk. It's not that hard; you've been walking since before you were one," I say, motivating myself. I manage to push myself up into a sitting position, watching blood slowly trickle down to my wrists by now in the process, and pause to catch my breath (those of you saying that I shouldn't need a breather after a single push-up, try doing one with holes in your shoulders).

"Well, well, well. If it isn't little Alexander Grey," I hear behind me. "Shouldn't you be getting stuck in a shadow somewhere?"

I turn my head just enough to see Caius and his crew coming up behind me. "Leave me alone, Caius. I haven't done anything to you before, and I don't plan on doing anything to you either."

"I know you don't," he replies from right behind me. "There isn't a single person who wouldn't defend me once word got to the tribunal if you did, anyway. And Gods know that there isn't a single person who would back you up aside from your little ginger bodyguards-"

"They're my friends, not bodyguards," I interject.

"Tomato, tomahto. Anyways, I've been thinking that you've been such a good sport with us that you deserved some kind of a reward. Right, guys?" A chorus of "Yep" and "You know it" comes from his friends behind him, and my suspicion is now piqued. "Here's the thing," Caius begins, walking around me, "we know that Reyna has taken an interest in your training, for whatever reason, and that you always get your ass handed to you. Is it safe to assume that your current situation is just such an example?" he asks, waiting for a second before continuing, "Oh, of course it is. Who am I kidding? Back to that reward: we know how you can beat Reyna and not have to take any more beatings from her."

He watches me as I think it over, showing no signs of what he might be planning. _Should I do it? I really hate fighting Reyna, and I would love to beat her, just once, but this is Caius. Everything he's done to me over the years, and he expects me to take him up on his offer?_

"Caius, you can take your offer and shove it down your throat. I'm not interested." With that, I struggle to my feet, and begin walking unsteadily to the infirmary.

"Okay," he says as I walk by, "but don't say I never tried to help you with Hylla - I mean Reyna."

_Hylla? Whose Hylla? Fuck, he planned that. _"Damn Caius, him and his plans," I say to no one in particular. From there, I struggle to my feet and begin the trek to the infirmary. I now have a very important tip for anyone who gets stabbed in the shoulders: walk with your hands in your pockets, it will save you a lot of pain.

After about seven minutes of walking the streets of New Rome, I make it to the infirmary. I walk in and see a familiar sight; my mother at the desk. I had forgotten about that. She looks up from her work and scrutinizes me shortly. Spotting the blood trickling down my arms, she sighs and points me down the hall to the left of her desk. "I will inform the doctor that you're coming. You will tell me what happened later," she says very matter-of-factly. Sometimes, I think she inherited a little too much of Grandmother's personality. And the scarier characteristics. Like the eyes. I think more of my nightmares have involved my mother's death glare than monsters.

Pause. Let me explain: my mother is a daughter of Minerva, Goddess of Wisdom, Crafts, and War, among other things. She has really scary eyes that my mother inherited and passed down to me. She's a bit of a traditionalist, keeping her brown hair long, but well-kept in a fancy braid that goes around her head, kind of (I think it's called a Roman Braid, actually). She doesn't usually wear a toga, or whatever the female equivalent is, but opts for a poofy, white shirt and black formal pants and Roman sandals. What really makes her scary though is just how cold she seems at times. I know she cares, but she's always so detached from the situation emotionally. It's not like I'm any better, but it always makes it difficult to determine just how angry she is. And her death glare. That's scary too. It's like looking into a storm cloud, watching the lightning arc back and forth, wondering when it will finally strike. I feel like that's a pretty good explanation of my mother. Play.

I walk down the hallway and hear my mother say into the intercom, "Doctor Allen, your 9:30 has arrived earlier than expected." As I pass one of the open rooms, I look in and see that it is in fact only nine o'clock. _Well, I'm in worse shape in less time than usual. Reyna must be very proud of herself. _I walk through the door to the usual office and see that it's empty, save for the posters, patient's bench, ritual fireplace, and other assorted furniture expected of a Doctor's Office. Not surprising, as I'm half-an-hour early, but still not a normal occurrence. I close the door behind me and go sit on the patient's bench, looking around the 10x10 foot room at the now memorized motivational posters: a demigod dangling from a cliffside that says "Hang in there!", a group of demigods surrounded by monster silhouettes that says "You can do it, just believe!", and my personal favorite, a demigod surrounded by ten bricks of Imperial Gold C4 in front of a giant monster silhouette that says "When in doubt, blow it up." to name a few.

After about 5 minutes of sitting there pointlessly (getting progressively more light-headed), Dr. Allen walks in. He's wearing his glasses (simple wire frames) and doctor's coat, with a plain blue set of scrubs underneath. "Well, what seems to be the problem today?" he asks with a smile, getting right to business.

"Well, Doc, I have two holes in my shoulders and I've lost enough blood by now that if you don't make this quick you will have to force the Ambrosia and/or Nectar down my throat. Aside from that, my day is going just fine," I reply. I've got to admit, Dr. Allen is definitely my favorite person who works in the hospital (sorry Mother). He always has a smile on his face and doesn't waste time mincing words. The only way he could be better is if he gave me a cookie anytime I came to visit. I'd get daily cookies. Except on Sunday.

On Sunday I'd get two.

"Here you are," he says after digging around shortly in the cabinet, tossing me a Ziploc bag of Ambrosia. "I know that it's against policy, but I think you should just keep the bag for until it's gone. I have a lot of appointments for the rest of the week that I don't want to be late to. Plus, I'm pretty sure you know how and when to use that by now." He glances down at his watch, then says, "Is it really only 9:15? Reyna really whipped you today, didn't she?"

"As usual. I don't know why I can't fight her," I start. Seeing the telltale sign that Dr. Allen is about to say something he finds funny, I add, "And please, don't launch into one of your embarrassing lectures on the power of hormones. I don't have a crush on her. The only things I feel that involve Reyna are fear, respect, and pain." I emphasize my statement by crunching down on a piece of Ambrosia, the taste of homemade spaghetti in meat sauce coating my tongue.

"Whatever you say, Xander. Just know that your mother won't be so easy to get rid of." And with that, the good doctor leaves.

Not a minute later, my mother walks in. _Shit._

"Explain. Now," she says, sitting across from me in a chair.

I tell her what happened during sparring today, and when I'm done, she just sighs. "One of these days, she is going to seriously hurt you."

"What do you call stabbing my shoulders?" I ask, almost shouting.

"Point made." With that, my mother and I lapse into one of our usual silences. A few minutes later, I ask, "Who's Hylla?"

My mother stiffens slightly at the name before asking, "Where did you hear that name?" caution lacing her voice.

"Caius found me while I was coming here and offered to give me something that could help me spar against Reyna. When I refused, he called Reyna Hylla before correcting himself and walking off."

Thinking it all over in her head, a mental debate raging in her head, my mother takes a few minutes before saying, "While I would help you if it were my place, that piece of information is part of your Praetor's personal life from before she came here. If you really need to know, I suggest you ask her, but be careful."

"Thank you, Mother."

"You're welcome, Alexander. Now, rest a while. I will bring you a breakfast shortly."

"That's alright, Mother. I can go to the mess hall. You have more important things to do than wait on me."

"Nonsense," she replies. "You're my son. A good breakfast is the least I can do." With that, she gets up and walks out the door. Deciding that I'm not going to win this argument, I lay down on the bench (really, more of a cushioned cot) and wait for her to return. Ten minutes later, she walks back in the door, carrying a tray of food with her.

"Really, Mother, this isn't necessary," I say.

Before I can continue, she cuts me off. "Are you going to turn down this meal that I made for you? I, your mother, the one who brought you into this world and gave you everything that could be wanted, who-"

"Alright, Mother, I get it. I will eat the meal. Enough of the guilt trip. Gods, if I weren't related to you, I would have been out the window by now," I interrupt, getting up and taking the tray from my mother. "Besides, it's not like you actually cooked this." At a cold look from my mother, I hastily add, "I love you!" and dig around in one of the cabinets for a box of matches and some blank papers. I throw the papers into the fireplace, start a fire, and slide a portion of the food into the fireplace, offering up my usual prayer of thanks to Dad. As an afterthought, I slide some more into the fire and ask, _Please, Lady Bellona, don't let your daughter kill me today._ I walk back over to the bench and begin eating my breakfast. Only then do I notice that my mom actually did make this for me; biscuits and gravy with hashbrowns, my favorite breakfast, and one not in the hospital's ready-to-nuke rations. I take a mildly frightened look up from my meal, now a little over half burning in the fireplace, at my clearly agitated mother. After inhaling my breakfast, I finally do jump out of the window. "Bye Mother! I love you, have a good day!" I shout over my shoulder as I run back to the fighting arena.

**Well, that was something. Tell me what you think below. Thanks for reading.**


	5. Back in the Pit

**Working at it again. Eventually, I might work at making a schedule for this stuff, but don't get your hopes up.**

**Disclaimer: I can only wish I was Rick Riordan. As it stands, this is the closest I get. To the story!**

After running about seventy-five percent of the way from the infirmary to the arena, I figure that I have escaped the possible wrath of my mother and can thus take a more leisurely pace the rest of the way. I slow down to a walk, and start enjoying my walk. Looking up, I walk with my hands in my pockets, cloud-gazing. It occurs to me that I might want to watch where I'm walking since the last time I didn't, I ran into Lady Reyna. I decide that my luck can't be so bad as to-

**Slam!**

As I get barreled to the ground, the only thing I can think is _At least I can't be blamed for this one. _ I then slam into the ground and realize that the person who hit me is actually a little larger than me, and probably a few years older as well.

"I'm sorry," I say quickly. "I should have been watching where I was going. Just please don't attack me, I need to get somewhere." As I'm apologizing, I realize that this person is actually quite larger than me, and a guy. From the looks of him, definitely Asian, possibly part panda.

"No, no, it's my fault. I wasn't paying attention," the Panda-guy says. "I'm Frank, by the way. Frank Zhang of the Fifth Cohort." He sticks his hand out timidly to shake mine, and I almost burst out laughing at the sight of someone so much bigger than me seemingly frightened by me.

"Xander Grey, of the Eighth Cohort," I reply, grabbing his hand for a quick shake. "And please, don't seem so afraid of me. I'm pretty sure that you could eat me alive if you wanted. I'd probably give you the worst indigestion you will ever have, but still."

"Wait, you aren't friends with Lance and Leah Roarke, by chance, are you?" Frank asks.

"Yeah, I am. How do you know them?"

"I was watching the entrance to camp with a, uh, friend of mine when they showed up," he says, more to the ground than to me. "They seemed like nice people, so I just kind of got to know them. We meet every now and then, still. Do some training, play some game, talk about our friends..." he trails off.

After this, we both just kind of stand there, rocking back and forth on our feet, awkwardly making eye contact and then breaking it immediately, and all around acting like two, very uncomfortable and not-very-social people. I almost walk away before thinking to ask, "What exactly do Lance and Leah say about me?" _ Yep, that's a great way to break the ice, show self-interest. I really rock at this whole "making friends" thing._

"Oh, uh, nothing much. Just that you're, well, scrawny, a little smarter than some people, and awkward around girls. And boys. People in general, really." The longer his explanation goes, the more he scratches the back of his head, almost like there's something he doesn't want to say.

"There's something else, isn't there," I say more than ask. When he simply nods in response, I reply, "Go on, then."

"Lance might have called you a pole dancer a few times."

_Well, that might be why he's acting so weird. _I purse my lips and close my eyes, mildly annoyed at Lance's "affectionate" nickname for my combat drills, pondering how to best bury him alive. "That's what he calls my drills. I use a staff of Stygian Iron, or as Lance likes to call it, a pole. Since the only time he claims I actually have some grace and confidence in my movement is when I'm doing my drills, he calls it dancing. Pole dancing." To emphasize my point, I pull out my coin and flip it. When I catch it, I perform an exaggerated moulinet (think of when Darth Maul fights and he's spinning his lightsaber a lot), skirting it around his body, and end it with a horizontal swipe at his head, stopping about an inch away, before bringing it back down to my side.

"O-okay. I see what he means now," Frank says, a bead of sweat going down the side of his face. "Uhh, that's actually pretty cool that you're so good with that."

"Uh, thanks. And really, it's not that hard. A little practice, and you could be taking me down before I can say 'Pluto's sweat socks'." I step back and slam the butt of my staff into the ground, left hand holding it, right hand on the top. My right hand goes straight to the ground and I stand back up, my coin in my hand.

"That's kinda handy, being able to carry it around like that. My friend Jason has a coin that turns into a gladius or a pilum. Only it's made of Imperial Gold, not Stygian Iron. Does yours turn into anything aside from your staff?"

"Yeah, it also turns into a bow, and I don't quite know how it does it, but just pulling back on the string summons arrows of shadow. Useful for a few reasons, but it still baffles me to no end."

"Wait, it turns into a bow, too? Can I see it?" Frank asks, his face lighting up. "Sorry, I just really enjoy archery."

"N-no, it's alright. Just, uh, let me see if I can get the bow side up." I flip the coin a few times, slamming the resulting staff back into the ground and going again, before finally getting my bow.

Frank looks at it with an almost adoring face, examining its every inch, bend, and point, because it wouldn't be a weapon worthy of the Underworld if it didn't have points. "This is amazing," Frank says quietly, almost to himself. "A little over the top with all of the little spikes, but still, amazing. Can I go shoot it? I-If that's not too much trouble, I mean. This is your weapon, after all, and I don't want to just assume. It's just really a wonderful bow and I-"

"Yes, Frank, I will let you go shoot it," I interrupt. "I have to go back to the arena anyway, so come on." I resume my walk to the arena, again looking at the clouds, only now I also notice Frank examining my bow in more detail.

"Hey, Xander, have you ever noticed these writings on your bow?" Frank hands me my bow, dragging his finger along the length of the bow, pointing it out ot me. "I think it might say something important."

"No, Frank. I've honestly never noticed them. Let me take a closer look." I inspect the markings and, after they stop dancing around thanks to my dyslexia, manage to read what I can identify as ancient Latin. "It says, 'These spikes are your arrows. They will regenerate when in shadows. Use them well. Pluto.' Well, at least now I know where my ammo comes from," I say, handing the bow back to Frank.

"Yeah. Why did that say Pluto at the end?"

"It's a gift from my dad. Pluto. God of the Underworld, Gems, Precious metals, and I'm pretty sure somewhere within his title is 'Anything that will make you piss yourself out of fear.' Did Lance or Leah never mention that?"

"No, they didn't, but that's cool. My friend Hazel happens to be a child of Pluto, too."

"Ya know, I'm beginning to see a trend here between children of Mars and Pluto." We walk into the arena, and I continue, "It seems that War and Death will always-"

**_Thunk_**

"Son of a bitch!" I shout, looking at the pilum wobbling in the wall next to my head. "Could you please watch where you're aiming, you- Lady Reyna!" I finish, noticing who threw the pilum.

"You what, Grey?" she asks coldly.

"Nothing, Ma'am. I-I was just going to p-point out that you could have hit Frank here," I reply nervously.

"Of course you were, Grey. Now, grab that pilum and get over here. You still have your punishment from the failed sparring session this morning: push-ups, sit-ups, and weapon polishing," she lists, reminding me of why I was coming back here in the first place. "Though before that, it's time to spar again."

_Fuck, I forgot about that. Gods dammit, just when I thought I was going to make a new friend._ "You might want to leave, Frank. This isn't going to be pretty," I say dejectedly.

"Come on, it can't be that bad. After all, it's just sparring," he replies, handing back my bow. "Plus, you showed me what you can do with that staff, so I think you can actually take her." He walks over to the bleachers, sitting down and settling in for the show.

As I pull the pilum out of the wall (which took a lot longer than I would have liked), I have an important revelation: Reyna is already holding herself in her ready stance and I don't know if I can make my bow go from bow to staff without going to coin mode first. That is valuable time that I could be not getting stabbed or slashed. "Uuuuhhh, can I have a moment to make this my staff?"

"No," she replies, charging me, sword raised for a diagonal slash. I drop the pilum and move my bow to intercept her slash, catching it on one of the spikes. Without thinking, I draw back my bowstring, getting ready to shoot her shoulder. She draws a dagger hanging at her belt and hits my bow up, throwing me off balance and making me miss. She kicks my stomach, and I fall onto my back, sliding a small distance. I use the momentum to (or it just makes me) roll backwards onto my hands and knees, and I look up to see Reyna charging me again. I wait until she's almost on me, and then I roll right on my shoulder, keeping my bow close to my body and my hand on the string, drawing it back as I dodged. She stabs into the ground where I was, and I fire at the crossgaurd of her gladius. My shot was a little off to the left and low, so I ended up hitting her blade, but it still had the desired effect of getting her to let go. Granted, most people probably would let go if they see a black-as-pitch arrow shoot through an iron sword. _Thankfully, she doesn't use her Imperial Gold sword and dagger while we spar. Not only would I have to probably buy her a new one, wounds from Imperial Gold aren't guaranteed to heal correctly. As much as she manages to hospitalize me, that would be bad._

Reyna, who had been staring at her sword for a few moments in shock, looked to me menacingly and said, "You tried to shoot me with one of those earlier. Looks like you're growing a pair finally."

I start backing away slowly, hands in the air saying, "I'm sorry. It was an accident. I forgot how dangerous these are, I really don't use them all that often." Looking over to Frank, I notice that he is inspecting the small crater in the arena wall where my arrow passed through. Thankfully, I know that it couldn't have gotten through the wall beyond that between the arena and the rest of Camp Jupiter. I've tried before when I first started using Umbra. Looking back to Reyna, I notice that she has drawn her dagger, picked up her sword, and is ready to fight again.

"Don't you ever quit? I mean seriously, can't you ever just call it good?" I ask, tiredly. Reyna shot me a look that said "Keep complaining, see what happens," and that shut me up. I nock another arrow and prepare for her attack, bow at my waist. Reyna throws her dagger at my chest and I move to catch it in my shoulder- _Wait, that's HER dagger! -_then I hit the ground, watching it fly over me. I look back to her to see her falling towards me, sword poised to stab me. I roll backwards, drawing back my bowstring and loosing it in a kneeling position. At the wall.

_Where in the name of Pluto- _something hard and decidedly metal whacked the back of my head and I hit the ground, splayed out with my bow a few feet away. The point of a sword was pressed firmly between my shoulder blades. _Oh, that's where. _"You got me. Again. I-"

"Don't say it, Grey. Find a way out," Reyna orders.

_Okay, think; what all can I do from here. My weapon is out of the question, so that leaves my abilities. Checklist: Umbrakinesis, Geokinesis, Shadow Tra- wait, Geokinesis. Maybe I should try..._ The ground starts shaking fiercely and a small fissure in the ground opens up below me. I fall in and close the hole, plunging myself into pure darkness. "Now what?" I ask myself, taking some time to relax. "I can't just go back up there, she'll wreck me. That took more energy than I thought it would, so I don't think immediate action is going to help me." Then, I notice that dirt is falling on my head. "Are you kidding me? Is she really trying to get at me from up there?" Next thing I know, she fell on me and we were both covered in about a foot of dirt.

"Lady Reyna?" I ask, coughing slightly. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, Grey, now get us out of here."

"Yes, Lady Reyna." I focus, raising the ground below us, shaking the arena foundations a little as well. When we get topside again, I notice the minor damage to the stands. "I can fix that. Just a minute, please." I focus on the foundations and reset them as they were, then try to reset the stands. Halfway through it, I fall over from exertion. "Maybe another day, then," I say looking at her.

"While you're down there, Grey, get started on your push-ups. One-hundred of them, then one-hundred sit-ups," Reyna orders, combing dirt out of her hair with her hands.

"I can't, ma'am. I collapsed from exhaustion, not from wanting to take a nap in the dirt," I reply.

"I want results, soldier, not excuses. You are a member of the 12th Legion, and you shall act as such. Now, push-ups."

"Can it wait until we've checked to see if any masonry fell on- Oh my gods, Frank! Frank, if you can hear me, shout!" I yell, struggling into a sitting position and realizing that the panda-boy might have been buried.

"I'm fine," he says from behind me. "I wasn't in the stands when everything started shaking. I was actually coming to see if you two needed any help. It might have actually saved my life," he notes, looking at where he had been sitting, now covered in rubble.

"Heheh, whoops. Sorry about that," I say, rubbing the back of my head. When I pull it away, I notice my blood on my hands. "Gods dammit. It's not even Sunday. Wait, he gave me a baggy." I pull out the ziploc bag of Ambrosia and eat half of a square, figuring it would be enough. Within a few minutes, I feel rested and I've stopped bleeding. "Okay, I think I can do my push-ups now," I say.

"Good. Get to it."

"You might as well leave, Frank, unless you feel like taking my bow and shooting some. Up to you," I say, starting on my push-ups.

"Enough talking. Do your push-ups, Grey. You have until half-past ten to finish them and your sit-ups, so a little over half of an hour based on our shadows. Then you get to polish the weapons," Reyna states. "Once you finish with that, you are free to go about your day."

"Thank you, Lady Reyna," I say between push-ups. And so, I spent my next half hour doing mandatory exercise while hearing the constant _twang_ of a bowstring in the background.

Rubbing my sore arms, I get ready to go polish the weapons in the armory kept in the arena, but Reyna stops me saying, "That's fine for now, Grey. Take a break."

"But I still have to polish the weapons," I reply.

"They're just weapons. They'll still be here when you get back. Now, go," she ordered.

"Yes, ma'am."

**Well, that feels like it dragged on way too much. Hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a review.**


	6. Food Fight!

**Well, here's another one. Hope you enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: If I were Rick Riordan, I wouldn't be writing this disclaimer.**

I left the training arena, intent on wandering aimlessly until I found Lance and Leah. I managed to waste an hour just watching the clouds pass overhead as I walked before finally finding them, Leah carrying her "supply kit", as she calls it (really, it's just a purse). The first thing that Lance did was, of course, tackle me to the ground in a bear hug. "I thought you were gonna die! I was sure she killed you this time!" he shouted through very fake tears.

"Lance, get off of me. I can't breathe," I gasp. "And please, quit being a drama queen."

"Fine," he grunts, standing up. "You're no fun. Can't you ever just humor me?"

"I could, but that would only encourage you."

"And see how well that works for you?" Leah asks. "He still does it, if for no other reason than to get to you."

"Point taken," I say. "Lance, if I humor you once, will you please stop doing this?"

"No, because then I'm just going to expect you to keep humoring me," he says with a smile.

After a few moments of glaring at Lance, I give up and say, "Let's go get some lunch."

As we walk off in the direction of the mess hall, Lance tries to start another race with Leah before tripping over his own two feet. After a short laugh, Leah and I grab a can of kool-aid out of her purse and take a drink. As I note three empty cans, I look to Leah and ask, "Has he been busy?"

"Only as much as he ever is. Just be happy I'm not making you catch up right now," she responds.

"Hey, the rules are that we have to _observe_ him doing something stupid. If I wasn't there, I couldn't have observed it, so ha."

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up, Xander, or I'll have Lance carry you into the mess hall bridal style," she says with a mischievous grin.

"Don't even think about it."

"And maybe I'll have him sing a few songs to you while he's at it," she continues.

"I get it, you hate me. I'll just go and jump in the Little Tiber and it'll be all your fault."

"Oh please, you can swim and you know it. Stop being so overdramatic," Leah says. "You're almost as bad as Lance."

"I take offense to that!" Lance shouts. "No one is as bad as me!"

"And you take the utmost pride in that, we know," Leah and I say simultaneously. Lance started pouting because he didn't get to finish his favorite statement.

"Come on, ya nutter," I continue, walking past him with Leah. "I want to get some lunch before my stomach decides to eat itself."

"What, didn't you get breakfast after you and Reyna fought?" Lance asked, catching up.

"Yeah, but I offered most of it to my dad and Bellona," I explained. "Then, I had another sparring match with Lady Reyna, and I might have used a little too much geokinesis."

"Ohh, so that's what that shaking was about. I told you that the ground was shaking before I fell," Lance says to Leah.

"And the fact that you believed I was seriously accusing you of causing a small earthquake by falling on your butt made it the funniest thing today," she responds with a laugh. After we all have a quick laugh about it, we walk on in silence for a short while, still heading for the mess hall.

"Hey, Xander," Lance says, breaking the silence. "Why do you do that whole 'food in the fire' thing?"

"It's how my mother raised me before I was sent to the Wolf House. She told me to always offer food to the gods before a meal so that I could gain their favor, or just make them not hate me. 'It shows reverence and humility, subjugation and respect,' were her exact words."

"So, that's why you burn part of your meal all the time?" Lance asks, still a little confused.

"Yes, Lance. Didn't anyone ever teach you guys that?" I ask, confused myself at how dense he's being.

They both shake their heads, Leah saying, "Xander, think about it; aside from Octavian's stuffed animals, what offerings have you seen anyone burn here?"

As I think about it, I realize that I haven't seen any other member of the Legion offer their food, or much of anything really.

The realization must have been evident on my face, because Leah continued, "Exactly my point. Remember, Lupa taught us to fend for ourselves, and what we do in the name of the gods will be worthy enough. Be strong, be swift, be deadly."

As I nod my acknowledgement, Lance adds in, "You're mom's a little weird, dude."

"And you're normal?" I ask.

"Hey, you chose to be my friend," he said with a smile. "If you didn't like me-"

"Actually, I chose to be friends with Leah," I interrupt with a smile. "You were just an extra."

"That hurts, hurts real deep, Xander," Lance says. "Hurts me right here," pointing to his heart. "I don't know if I shall ever be able to heal from this most devastating of wounds, and know that 'twas you who inflicted it, 'twas you who hast," gasp, "killed me." After finishing his short speech, he clutches his heart and falls to the ground, eyes closed and tongue lolling out of his mouth.

"Bravo, bravo," Leah and I say, applauding him. "If this demigod thing doesn't work out for you, try joining a theatre troupe."

He gets up and takes a very overdramatic bow, even flourishing an imaginary hat, saying, "Thank you, thank you. I will be here all week, and can be found wherever the two of you are."

"In all seriousness, though, I really need to get some lunch or I'm going to collapse." I take off running with Lance and Leah following close behind. Within three minutes we made it to the mess hall in the middle of the lunch rush. We grabbed a few plates of food each (nothing fancy, mostly burgers and fries) and went to a table to eat. About halfway through my second burger, I start to feel like we're being watched. I look around, tuning out Lance and Leah's stimulating conversation on how best to skin a cat, and notice most of the other tables of people looking at us, most of them with smirks on their faces. I turn back to the twins and put down my burger. "Guys, we're being watched. And not in a good way. Get ready," I say.

Suddenly, someone shouts "Food fight!" and before I know it, our table was flipped over me and Lance was chucking food left and right. I'm not even sure that most of the food was ours. Leah was using our plates as shields [if you ever watched Code: Lyoko growing up, imagine Yumi with her fans], and I was finishing my burger before Lance could use it as ammo.

"Anybody have a plan?" Lance asks.

"Well, we could try running for the exit, but we have no cover between here and there. We'll be covered from head to toe before we go five feet," Leah replies.

"Not if they have a higher value target going somewhere else," I say.

"Hey, no man left behind, no matter how pasty skinned, scrawny, or socially awkward they are," Lance says.

"If any of that weren't true, I'd be extremely offended."

"I don't care. No man left behind. We are ohana and-"

"So help me gods, I will personally throw you out there!" I shout.

"Girls, girls, you're both pretty. We have bigger issues right now, though," Leah says, blocking some gray slop with her plates.

"I'm going to distract them, you two make a tactical retreat. Set up an ambush near the Garden. Gather as many members of the 4th cohort as you can," I order.

"No! Ohana!" Lance argues

"What did I say?" I ask Lance.

"You would throw me out there if I said anything about ohana."

"Correct. What did you just do?"

"Shout ohana," he replies, realization dawning on his face.

"Then you know what I must do."

"Make it quick, please."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, shield-brother," I say, pulling him into a hug.

"Enough theatrics, you two!" Leah shouts, still playing defense.

"You just love to kill the mood, you know that?" I ask. She just shoots me an angry look in response, and I grab Lance with a coil of shadows. "Fine. Just follow him out the door."

"But you said-"

"I know what I said, Lance. I also know that I never said where 'out there' was. Loophole!" I shout before flinging him out the doors.

I hear the satisfactory sound of Lance colliding with the statue of Ceres in front of the mess hall followed by his shout of "Ass!"

"Shut up and run!" I shout back. "Your turn. I'll go over. Give me three seconds and then break for the door. I will give you guys a two minute head start to collect as much of the cohort as you can find. Remember, the Garden of Bacchus. I'm not going to take a straight path, so that should give you plenty of time to get situated."

"Right," she nods. "Ready when you are."

I vault over the table, then jump quickly to my left. Where I had been standing in front of the table was suddenly a mass of food.

"Second volley!" _Shit, they're organized! _They launch another wave of food and I summon a rock wall to take the hit. I throw it down after the food hits, then quickly kick the ground. The floor rises suddenly, flinging the food back. While most duck in time, a few people get mouthfuls of fries or burger. In true spirit of the game, they declare themselves out and start spectating.

"Flanks, advance! Pincer movement!" the voice shouts again.

_Using my powers might not have been a great idea. That drained me a lot. _As they close around me, I jump behind my table and break off two legs to defend myself. _This is going to get messy._

_Lance's POV_

"WE LEFT HIM TO DIE!" I shout, running next to Leah. "HOW COULD WE DO THAT? WE'RE HIS FRIENDS!"

"Stop being such a drama queen, Lance," Leah says. "It's just a food fight."

"I DON'T CARE! WE STILL LEFT HIM TO DIE!"

"He's a big boy, Lance. He can take care of himself. You know that the only person who gets past his defense regularly is Reyna, and she wasn't in there."

"Yeah, I guess," I say, finally calming down. "Ya know, I can't help but think that he forgot something when he decided to make the ambush at the Garden," I think aloud.

"And what would that be?"

"I don't know, you're the smart one. Just because I get feelings doesn't mean I know what they mean."

"Well, you're as helpful as always. Come on, let's find some friends," Leah says, reminding me of our task.

As we run around a nice portion of New Rome, we come across 7 members of the Fourth Cohort that agreed to help us. Surprisingly, we also came across Frank Zhang in the arena using Xander's bow. He agreed to help us before running off to grab some friends. Within ten minutes, the nine members of the Fourth Cohort are hidden and armed, and Frank somehow managed to get about half of the Fifth Cohort to help out.

"That's more than 'some' Frank, I hope you realize that," Leah says, motioning to the forty-some odd members of Fifth Cohort behind him.

"What can I say, Jason is very convincing," he replies, looking over his shoulder at Jason organizing everyone.

"Well, you might want to go tell him to finish ordering everyone around, Xander should be here soon," I say. "And ambushes only work if they don't know we're here."

Frank runs over to Jason and relays the message. Jason gives one final order before everyone takes up positions, hiding behind bushes and around corners of surrounding buildings. No sooner are we all hidden than Xander runs into the plaza followed by everyone that was in the mess hall (about twenty people in total) carrying what looks like a pair of table legs.

Xander shouts "Now" once he's in the middle of the plaza, tripping and falling into the ground. If he wasn't a child of Pluto, I'd have been worried. We all start throwing food that we picked up along the way, bought, or just found in the Garden, and before too long, the enemy is down to seven soldiers. Sadly, they seem to have at least two children of Vulcan because they somehow managed to make a pretty defensible fort out of nothing pretty quickly.

"Where are they getting all of their ammo?" Xander asks, popping up behind me.

"Holy Mars!" I shout, clutching my chest and turning to face him. "Don't do that in a warzone. It's a great way to get yourself killed."

"Yeah, yeah, it's a food fight. Calm down, drama queen. Gonna answer my question or not?"

"I'd love to, but I don't have a fucking clue. Why don't you go do your scouting thing and figure it out yourself?"

"Because, that would involve me using my powers, and I've done that enough times today," he replies, collapsing to a sitting position. "Also, I'd really like to take a nap."

"No napping in a warzone, Xander. Do it on your own time."

"This is my own time, though. And if I don't do it now, I'm not going to have time later."

"I don't care. You're in a combat situation, you're on my time. Now, get to fighting!"

"Geez, when did you get so bossy?" Xander asks.

"About the time you got lazy. Now, get off your ass and start fighting!"

"Gods, fine!" he says, standing up. "You want me to fight, I'll fight!" Xander drops the table legs he was carrying, picks up the nearest piece of food he can find, and throws it at the fortification. It flies through one of the openings they left for firing at us just as a kid with blonde hair poked his head out.

"Phoebus, that hurts!" the kid shouted. "I'm out!" he calls, working his way out of the fort and clutching his head.

"What'd you throw?" I ask.

"I think it was an apple."

"Hey, do you think he's related to Apollo?" I ask after a few moments, smiling.

"Maybe. It might explain why he said 'Phoebus'. Why?"

"No reason. Just figured that an apple a day would keep the doctor away." Xander's only response is shooting me one of his glares. "Really? Nothing?"

"Lance, not only was that terribly timed and delivered, but it just sounded really, really stupid coming out of your mouth. Be happy nothing was all you got from me," Xander replies.

"Oh, come on, that was gold and you know it."

"My dad is the God of Precious Metals. I know gold. That was not even pyrite."

"Huh?"

"Fool's gold."

"Ohhh... Hey!"

"Will you two quit gossiping over there and get back to the battle!" Leah shouts. "I swear, it's like living with a pair of teenage girls."

"We are not that bad!" we shout together.

"Yes you are," she says, "but I'm willing to forgive you if you get back to the battle."

Xander looks like he's about to say something before just freezing, eyes locked over Leah's shoulder. Following his gaze, I see Lady Reyna walking over to us.

"Shit, I forgot," Xander moans. "She loves coming here and I turned it into a messy warzone. She's going to be pissed."

"Yeah she is," I agree. "Just imagine how much angrier she'll be if she actually gets hit, though."

Leah and Xander both give me a look that just screams _I'm going to hurt you later for that one _before Xander picks up his table legs and goes over to Reyna, deflecting throws that now seemed to be only targetting her.

"You really need to learn to keep your mouth shut," Leah sighs. "Everytime you open it, something bad happens."

"That's not true. I just opened my mouth and nothing happened," I say. "And-" I'm cut off by suddenly choking on a bug that flew into my mouth. After a short coughing fit, I look at her and say, "Pure coincidence. Nothing else."

"Sure, just keep telling yourself that," Leah says. "Come on, let's give Xander some cover," she suggests, throwing apples and pears left and right.

"Good idea."

_Xander's POV_

_I really should have thought of a better place for this ambush, _I think to myself. _Reyna probably wants to kill me now. And she could. _As I continue blocking the onlsaught of food, my body started to feel the strain from using my powers as much as I have today. _Wonderful timing, me. This couldn't have waited for another, like, half an hour? _"Lady Reyna," I begin, panting. "If you don't want to be hit by a lot of food, I suggest grabbing my shirt."

"This warzone is your fault, isn't it Grey," Reyna states more than asks.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then be a soldier. Quit defending someone who is perfectly capable and mount an assault on your enemy," she orders.

"Yes, ma'am," I respond. After leaving Reyna to her devices, I return to Lance and Leah, the outlines of a plan forming in my head. I observe the fort on my way over to them, noticing people moving about behind it like a baggage train. "Guys," I said, reaching them and composing myself. They turn to face me and I continue, "I have a plan. Their fortification has to have an opening in the back, right?" I ask. Leah nods, agreeing that it's probable. "So if someone were to try to 'sneak in,' he would either infiltrate the base or..." I trail off, waiting to see what they came up with.

"Fail completely," Lance responds. When I smile at his realization, he says "Oh, come on, I can come up with these things to!"

"Lance, I wasn't laughing at you. I'm smiling because that's exactly what I was hoping one of you would say," I reply, explaining myself.

"Why is it a good thing that an infiltration would fail?" Leah and Lance ask simultaneously.

"Because, all attention would be diverted to that person, opening them up to attack from other directions. As long as that person remains a threat, he can draw them out of hiding," I explain.

"So what's your plan?" Lance asks.

"Gods, you're dense. He plans on 'sneaking' into that-" Leah says, pointing over her shoulder at the fort, "-and getting caught so that when he runs away, they'll follow him and we can flank them."

"Exactly. Thank you, Leah."

"Ohhh. I don't like that idea. We already let you sacrifice yourself once for us, you aren't doing it again," Lance argues.

"Lance, I didn't die. I'm not going to die. Besides, look around," I say, motioning around us. "We have taken heavier losses than they have, and we don't seem to be coming up with a better plan. It's this or nothing."

"He's right Lance. If we don't do this, we could very possibly lose," Leah states, showing her agreement with my plan. "I don't like it either though."

Or not.

"Then why are you agreeing with him?"

"Because I don't see any options aside from that. The only person here who could probably get away with sneaking in there is Xander, so he's our best shot," she explains with a scowl.

"But-"

"Stop bickering about it, you two!" I hiss. "We don't have time for this if my plan's going to work. Separate, and inform everyone of what I'm doing. I estimate 45 seconds from the time I sneak over to the time I'm discovered. Get going, or I'm being a sacrificial lamb for nothing," I order.

"But-" they both start.

"Go!" I order, pointing opposite directions. They leave, albeit grudgingly, and I collapse to my knees and hang my head, letting my fatigue show through for a few moments. "Damn your 'blessing' Father. I'm going to be utterly exhausted by the end of this."

"You should really keep your guard up in combat, you know," a voice says to my right.

"Gods dammit, another one? Why can't people just let me rest when I need it?" I ask, panting. I look up to where the voice came from and see a blonde boy with a small scar on his lower lip. "You're a new one. Who are you?"

"Jason Grace, son of Jupiter and centurion of the Fifth Cohort. Who are you?" he asks in return, holding out his hand to pick me up.

"Alexander Grey, son of Pluto and soldier of the Fourth Cohort, but call me Xander," I reply, taking his hand and standing up. Taking in more of his presence, I realize that he holds himself like a leader and that he seems strong as a person. "Might I ask His Greatness what he's doing talking to me instead of leading his soldiers?" I ask, not trying to seem hostile and failing. _I really need to get over my distrust of authority._

"Because your friend Leah came over to me and explained your plan to everyone around. She asked me to talk to you before continuing on," he says. "And please don't call me 'His Greatness' or anything like that. I don't like it."

"Erm, sorry. I just kind thought... You know, son of Jupiter and all... Never mind. Sorry."

"It's fine, I'm kind of used to it. Anyways, I don't approve of your plan. A person's plans say a lot about them."

"And what does mine say about me?" I ask.

"That you don't care about your life," he states. Before I have the chance to argue, he raises his hand to stop me. "I realize this is just a food fight, but a plan is a plan, and this is one that you'd use. You're using yourself as bait. I'm not sure why you think this is a good idea, but I won't allow it," he says.

"And this is why I don't like authority," I say under my breath. "They think they can actually control you."

"Listen, Centurion Grace, I'm thankful that you seem to care for my well-being even though you don't know me, but I've got a small fort to infiltrate. You aren't going to stop me just because you order me not to do this. If this were a real warzone, I would understand your concern, but I would also have this point to make; we've lost too many people to too small an enemy. Moreover, mission success is worth the life of one man." As I summon shadows around me, I try to smile at him but it comes out as more of a grimace. "Besides, I'm not that easy to kill," I say before the shadows take me behind a building near the supply train I noticed earlier. _Fuck, I need a break, _I think to myself, literally falling out of the shadows on my face.

**And that's where I'm leaving you with that one. Sorry if you hate me for it. I hope you enjoyed the chapter regardless. As always, please review and tell me what you did and didn't like about it.**


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